Some Need to Be Broken
by ReKoJ
Summary: Someone gets broken just to know that he's alive.


Dean once told me that some people need to be broken. He said that the people who appear tough, who carry the weight on their shoulders, the people who see and do acts which the rest of the world consider terrible and do it without cringing need to be reminded that they're still human. They needed to know that they could still feel. Dean had said that the easiest way to do that was to be beaten; to be broken by someone they trusted. Dean told me that he wanted me to break him.

The rules were simple; I was to beat him until he cried. He gave me several options as to how that was to be achieved. He also said that whatever one (or ones) I chose he didn't want to know. I guess that explains how we ended up in a motel room. Ever since we got into the town I knew what methods I would use to break him. I was in the room before he was and was completely ready when he came inside and shut the door.

"Take off your shirt." My voice was commanding. I could see by the way he was standing that no matter what I said he would comply. This let me know that I was in charge, which is where he wants me when we play this game.

He slowly pulled off his coat and placed it on the table. Then he pulled his t-shirt over his head and placed that on the table as well. I was amused to see that he was shaking slightly. "Turn around." He turned so that his back was to me. "Down on your knees." He sank down to his knees.

I took off my belt and doubled it in my fist. I know that sometimes he breaks within the first stage and sometimes it takes longer. Sometimes I think that this is a sick and twisted game but he has assured me that he needs this. And if he didn't want it, if he couldn't handle it then it would have stopped a long time ago. He bends forward slightly and puts his hands flat on his bended knees as I land the first blow across his back. He flinches but doesn't start crying. The second blow lands on his left shoulder, and the third a slanting line.

I noticed that his breathing had gotten heavy so I walked to the front of him. I wasn't all that surprised to note that his face was dry. "Had enough Dean?" I offered him my hand.

He took it and stood up. "Break me." He spat the words out like they were an insult instead of a plea. At times like that I wonder who's in charge.

I walked him over to the table and bent him over it. Without warning I brought the belt down on his ass. He spread his legs apart and locked his knees. He spread his hands flat on the table. When the belt made contact with his ass again he made a noise. When I hit him again he spoke.

"Okay Sam." The words were choked.

I ignored the fact that he was talking and hit him at least twice more. By the end of the fifth hit he was crying. He was begging me to stop. When I stopped his shoulders shook with his sobs. When he realized that that part of the game was over he straightened up. The marks on his back were angry and red. I was willing to bet that there were identical marks on his ass. I dropped the belt on the floor. I pulled him close to me and within a few seconds I picked him up. I was careful of his throbbing back and his (probably) sore ass.

When I got to the bed I sat with Dean in my lap. After causing him to break I know that it's important that he feel safe. It's true that Dean was the one who said he needed to be broken, but it still shows apart of him that he'd like to keep hidden. When he's breaking he feels vulnerable and he's made it my responsibility to show him that that's okay.

So I do what I always do. I hold him close and rock him as he cries. Normally Dean would say that that was too much like a chick flick; but right now the tough guy attitude is gone. The only thing that's left is pure raw emotion.

He listens to the beating of my heart as I cradle his head to my chest. "You took longer to break this time."

"Yeah I know."

There's nothing else to say as I feel him relaxing against me. He's drifting off to sleep. I know that he'll be sore in the morning, probably bitchy. We'll get through it. We always do. He falls asleep holding my hand and listening to my heart.

The End


End file.
